


Simmering

by Outrore



Category: One Piece
Genre: Bisexual Vinsmoke Sanji, F/M, Gen, Gender Issues, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nakamaship, Not Beta Read, Pining, Pre-Time Skip, Queer Character, Queer Themes, Vinsmoke Sanji-centric, if you really squint your eyes you can shipp Sanji with everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outrore/pseuds/Outrore
Summary: An introspective POV of a day of work in the the kitchen of the Going Merry.Pre-timeskip
Relationships: Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates & Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Simmering

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a character study than a plot driven fic.  
> Inspired by Trixree's work

  
  
  
In the early hours of the morning, Sanji enjoys the silence.  
  
(He's on the deck of the Going Merry, a few steps from the prow's figurehead. That stupid smiling sheep. It was kind of cute, he had to admit.)  
  
Moments of bliss before the most hectic companions leave the boy's room. He smiles as the sea breeze gently touches his face, ignoring the fact that Zoro was on watch on the crow's nest and knowing the deck would be home to a big racket later (Luffy surely got a crew who knew how to make it). But not in his _temple_. He lights up a cigarette, the first of the day, drags it, feels the warmth flow through his insides. Warmth was good. The food supply was starting to shorten and he knew they had to make it to the next island soon (not that he had any doubt Nami was able to make it, incredible navigator she was, but the Grand Line was unpredictable. He doesn't like the unpredictable). One hand holding the cigarette in his mouth, the other in his pocket, he feels the multiple fabrics - undergarments, shirt, suit and tie - weighing down his skin when the sun starts to rise and heat the world good morning.  
  
(He has been very perfectionist with his looks these days. Presentation, the first thing someone sees before a meal, was always an important subject to him.)  
  
He tosses his apron over the well-groomed outfit and runs a hand through his hair to fix it, then think of his eyebrows, drawing lines over them with his fingers to make sure they're still in place, and does the same to the very soft skin of his jawline, to see if he haven't left any hair besides the absolute necessary bit on his chin.  
  
(Anyway, what was going to be the _menu_ for the day?)  
  
\----  
  
Broths may look simple to the unsophisticated eyes of the crew, but to him, they were a whole performance on it's own. Inside his temple, flavors were there to be worshipped in all of it's intricate layers - he roasts the bones, fire almost touching his calloused hands, the smell of smoke and death filling up the room. He then roughly chops through skin, meat, vegetables (keeping the peels, nothing gets wasted), strangely soothing sounds coming to him as the knife hits the cutting board. White rice straining on the side, eggs to each of his companions (some extra for Luffy whenever possible) the sunset tones of dried fruits being soaked in tangerine juice and rum for bringing complex flavors to his _Saint Honoré_ \- of course it would be unacceptable to leave Nami and Robin without dessert - the bitter greens carefully washed and dried in a bowl to Usopp's delight. He takes a step back and looks to that perfectly painted picture of a well done _mise-in-place_ (Sanji tried to brush away the thought of himself as an artist, but still loved this part), featuring all the carefully calculated food for the day . The last onions of the kitchen go into the heavy pan, sizzling along the celery, the carrots, flesh and bones, beads of peppers and _bouquet garni_ , the simple smells starting to combine into something else, complexity filling the room. He deglazes the pan with some of the Swordsman's alcohol (hopes he doesn't notice), which disappeared in the smoke, one more layer before adding the water. And finally, he lets it simmer. (will this be enough for the next few days?)  
  
You see, Sanji was never good at being his best self - the artist, the one who _killed it_ in the kitchen - in front of the others. He would kick annoyances away, snark at misbehaving manchilds and almost swoon at the first sign of a beautiful woman. To those, who took his breath away - and mostly to his repugnance, to _some man_ \- he had so much simmering going on in his own head, twitching on his stomach, that the mere possibility of it becoming real - as real as the flavours touching his tongue as he tests the waters of a new recipe, real as the feeling of the knives through flesh and bones hitting the cutting board - it was too much. It was too unpredictable, full of "what if's" and unexplored possibilities. It hit him too close to home. Sanji surely made his searchings for new things, but as a professional chef, he knew how to match things in their essences: acid tones punching through rich meaty flavors, herbs and root vegetables, he knew it all.  
  
But love ( _"want"_ , he shivered) was complicated. And he wasn't even sure what kind of _essence_ he had.  
  
There were a whole set of subtle, unspoken rules ( _etiquette_ , if you will) regarding Love - not simple flirtations or courtship, Sanji knew how to treat a woman, for God's sake. He wasn't that naïve. There was something more about wanting someone - who are you _allowed_ to want, how much of yourself you should show (in a True Love situation? All of it) who would even be able to reciprocate (would he be worthy?).  
  
He inhales deeply. Pours some booze in a measuring cup and chugs all of it, as he focuses back on breakfast, lunch, dinner and desserts. There are sounds of footsteps echoing through the wooden boards of the Going Merry putting him on alert. No time to think about those things, his crewmates needed him. Sanji was good at taking care of them - and almost always, the feeling of being in control helped to soothe the annoying noises in his head who said he wasn't worthy.  
  
"SANJI!! Food!" - His captain's voice echoed somewhere, as the Cook left the kitchen with trays filled with sandwiches and coffee mugs, serving the crew in the deck.  
  
"Oh GOOD MORNING Robin-Chwannnnnn, Nami-Swaaaaaan ~". Sanji looked to the girls sitting lazily on a bench, and delivered their servings along with tangerine pieces delicately decorated with mint leaves, under the scrutinizing eyes of Robin. She flipped through a book, that mysterious figure of her (that was her charm, after all). Heading to Chopper, Sanji remembered to put coconut milk and extra sugar cubes in his coffee.  
  
"Aren't you going to stay with us for breakfast today?" he heard Robin's always so polite voice asking, while he sort of ran back to the kitchen after serving the other crewmates.  
  
"Oooh Robin-chan, it's so good you beautiful ladies want my company, but I have a lot to finish in the kitchen today!~~" - and Sanji was back to his safe haven.  
  
\----  
  
(He was longing to sink in the bathtub after that long day)  
  
After leaving Skypiea, Sanji's been very prone to stress over small things. This was nothing new, he was used to overthink - and always worry, always be alert about something. He rinses thoroughly the soap from his body, taking away all the vestiges of a day working in the kitchen and is left only with that flowery, clean scent. (But what was for breakfast tomorrow?)  
  
He sinks in the water and closes his eyes, seeing that last image of Vivi, waving from the shore, floating above him. Long and flowy blue hair, matching painted nails, waist pinched in a corset (he wonders how it feels to be inside of such a thing - would she suffer? Would it actually support her?), the pink and white dress full of ornaments, twirly skirts, high heels. It tingles in the back of his head.  
  
Why would that sort of image disturb him?  
  
Sanji _deeply loved_ women. He sometimes catched himself imagining how he would be if he was born one. In a way, he'd always been sort of jealous of that versatile beauty - asides perfectly planned looks, surely Vivi, Nami or Robin could walk around dressed in a potato bag and still be stunning if they wanted - unfortunately he couldn't say the same about himself.  
  
He usually liked the images he saw in the mirror - he was pretty handsome after all, and that didn't go unnoticed by the people in the islands. He mostly liked his body, liked the outfits he planned, the smart-grown-up-man look, the chivalry he carefully directed to his affections. He knew the proper etiquette of a date - Zeff and those fancy men who visited the Baratie taught him well - and always had been kind of fascinated by those rules (He also knew the things simmering in his head made him not be as smooth as he wanted).  
  
But _sometimes_...  
  
The image of Bon Clay also flashed through his mind. The guy who looked so free, fighting as a dancer. Proudly wearing makeup in his face, as a warpaint. He shook his head - didn't want people seeing him as a freak - because that was how the former Mr. 2 probably were treated. He shivered and shaken his head, remembering the looks of his crewmates this morning, his hands trembling underwater. Remembering how Robin looked like she could pierce his soul and read between his lines. (Could they know? Would they understand? Would they stil be his nakama?)  
  
_What about when he truly fall in love?_  
  
Sometimes, just seeing himself without all the dressings, the embellishments - either the ones protecting his body or the ones keeping his mind sane- was _fucking scary_. He couldn't let anyone see it.  
How could one love and let oneself be loved like this?  
  
He leaves the baths and looks for his pajamas.  
  
\---  
  
(Just one last look into the kitchen. Just to see if everything was alright. Maybe Luffy wanted a midnight snack)  
  
Sanji approached the kitchen, he could see the light peeking through a little gap in the door. He opens it to find not only Luffy, but also Robin, Usopp, Nami and Chopper sitting around the table, waiting for him to appear, Zoro resting his back against a wall.  
  
"Oi, Sanji! We have something to ask you!!" Luffy called. Chopper raised one of his small hoofs calling him to sit on a bench.  
  
"Yeah, Robin was saying something this morning..." Nami continued, then paused.  
  
All eyes on him.  
  
He paled, feeling the sudden urge to either run away or take a seat. He picks the second, in front of his companions.  
  
"I was seeing you smoking a lot more and hiding all day in the kitchen and I thought it wasn't so cool , so I asked Usopp and he said you have been kind of weird since fighting that okama in Alabasta" - Luffy bluntly stated - "I didn't know why would you feel bad about it, Usopp said Sanji defeated them, so I asked Robin and Chopper, they're smart"  
  
Sanji felt as if someone suddenly threw a bucket of ice on his spine. The other strawhats looking at him with what could only be pity in their faces, he assumed. Maybe they knew everything. Maybe they would drop him in the next island as they found another cook, worried about the image of the future Pirate King. Maybe...  
  
"I've been reading things to try and help you. In the end, my investigation found some books on Love and Marriage in Ancient Societies" - His line of thought interrupted by Robin, who didn't abandon her academic tone while pouring some steaming tea in a cup. She gently handed it to Sanji. - "Not only on the Grand Line, but also several ones scattered across the Blues... In which the lines between loving men or women, or even being a man or a woman were quite blurred, especially before the advent of the World Government..."  
  
"Just so you know, it happens in almost all species in nature too!" - Chopper quickly added to Robin's comment.  
  
Sanji stays silent, eyes locked on his cup of tea. He warms his hands in it. He feels his ears burning.  
  
"You know, we'll be always there for you when you need it" - Usopp reassured. "I, the Great Captain Usopp forbid anyone in this crew or from outside to mistreat you if you want to be an ok..." - Usopp suddenly stopped, hit by a punch from Nami.  
  
"Oi cook. You don't need to say anything you don't want to say now" He heard Zoro suddenly cut "Stop pressuring him everyone." Sanji never thought he would find relief in any words that dropped out that shitty swordsman's mouth, but felt really grateful anyway. He tried to speak out, but couldn't find words.  
  
"Sanji" - Luffy stretched his arms to his shoulders, looking dead serious - "You're nakama. You're never alone in this world as long as you have us" and pulled everyone for a _really long_ hug.  
  
He could do nothing but sob and be suddenly drowned by the embrace of the crew. Sanji couldn't find the right words now, but maybe in the future, he would try to make himself more understood. "Thank you..."

  
He breathed to recompose himself and released from his friend's arms.  
  
  
"Now, _out of my kitchen!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on One Piece (and first fic I properly write in like... 8 years? 9 years?)  
> I just projected a lot of things on poor Sanji


End file.
